Warrior of the New Republic
by kenobit
Summary: The background history of a rather cold, sarcastic and miserable Jedi Knight of the New Jedi Order, Caden Cross ('much-loved' RP character).


Disclaimer: _Based on George Lucas' Star Wars. Aethyr/Caden Cross are characters of my own devising, but planets and some technology mentioned are taken from the Star Wars Universe. Other characters that may appear (ie. Luke Skywalker) also belong to Lucas. I just humbly borrow them for use in this fic._

PROLOGUE

For a planet usually associated with smuggling and piracy, Corellia's physical beauty far exceeded that of other urbanised and densely populated planets. Throughout the ages, the spirits of the Corellian people never faltered, and they tended to the wide expanses of field and forest with pride, unwilling to allow the rapidly developing technology to take over every inch of their world. Still, Corellia was not seen as this beautiful haven to all of its citizens. Many shadier figures sought refuge on the planet's surface, especially in its urbanised areas. 

Aethyr Cross was one of these very men. He was an intimidating figure though he was not of a greater stature than the average middle-aged human male, but his features were sharp and defined, his manner almost too calm and cool. When dealing, he even had a particular way of seeming irritated at all times, usually causing those around him to become nervous – which was always helpful for Cross. His prematurely greying hair gave him an older look, but he still appeared youthful in every other way.

As a smuggler, he was often travelling, doing runs for his clients and visiting his suppliers to restock. He was really rather successful, most of his runs going flawlessly, never being intercepted by the authorities, due to one important fact – it was he who piloted the ships the majority of the time, and when he did, he was the only person to know the destination.

His attention to detail always proved to be helpful during smuggling runs, as did his instincts. If he felt the slightest bit uneasy, then the run would be called off, and rescheduled. This often annoyed and angered his clients, but he would not put himself, his crew or his cargo at risk. Though he was a man of intelligence and cunning, he was not immune to all things, and like all great men, he had his weaknesses. In fact, there were two general things that could easily render his intelligence and prudence worthless – women, and alcohol.

The latter was not so much a threat, for he functioned very much on the same levels while intoxicated, though when he was mindboggling so, his crew would often drag him away from the controls, delaying the run for their own safety. Alcohol did, however, always manage to lead him to succumb more quickly to his other weakness. To women of all sorts, Aethyr seemed to be a very charming man, a witty and smooth talker, though obviously a little desperate for attention. He could often be found sitting in the corner of a grimy bar, surrounded by a number of vile creatures, his arms draped around at least one or two women, whose names he rarely recalled.

It was rare for Aethyr to speak of his ventures, whether they be smuggling runs or otherwise, so it surprised everyone when one situation was so bluntly explained. A child – an infant, really – was one day carried by a woman who looked more annoyed than angry, onto a Corellian docking bay where Aethyr was directing several members of his crew as they loaded their latest vessel, a decent YT-series freighter. Without a single word, the woman walked straight towards Aethyr, eyes narrowed threateningly, and she set the child into his arms. Satisfied, she simply turned smoothly on her heel, and walked away briskly, never offering any explanation, though her actions could have been summed up in one single word to the smuggler: _Yours_.

He was, of course, sceptical at first. It was possible that the child was left with him on the grounds that he would not have remembered whether or not he had even met this woman before. He could not be burdened with a child that was not of his flesh and blood, and so he had the blood tests performed without delay – only to find out that the boy was in fact his son. Without hesitation, he had the boy's birth recorded, and named him after his great grandfather. The boy would not be raised in shame, in spite of the circumstances under which he was born. Aethyr was prideful, and his son would not be denied the honour to be raised as a Cross.

The boy was his, and he would not be ashamed. Caden. His bastard. His heir. His son.


End file.
